


hey, my love

by TheSecondQueenOfSol



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, I originally wrote this as a tumblr post but then it kind of exploded into a pic so I ran with it, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 03:18:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16694428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSecondQueenOfSol/pseuds/TheSecondQueenOfSol
Summary: First love is complicated, and when Adora and Catra go their separate ways, they have to navigate everything that comes after. Adora stumbles through her feelings for Glimmer, and Catra needs to stop pining long enough to realise that maybe what she wanted was right in front of her all along.





	hey, my love

**Author's Note:**

> She-Ra is a masterpiece, and I needed to write my take on the many relationships that could blossom from this absolutely fantastic show. (I'm still on board with a Catra redemption arc, but if she stays "evil", this is my favourite alternative to Catradora).  
> Drop me a line at [@prince-bow](https://prince-bow.tumblr.com) if you want to chat!
> 
> Title from "Talia" by King Princess, and also a nod to Catra's saying "Hey, Adora".

Adora was Catra’s first love, and she loved her so deeply and with such devotion it was hard to believe Adora didn’t love her the same way. But here’s the thing; Adora values honour, dedication, cooperation, and hard work, and Catra couldn't care less about anything outside of their friendship.

Ever focused on pleasing Shadow Weaver and becoming a Force Captain, Adora ignored her teenage crush until it faded, even while Catra fell ever more in love with her. And then Adora left and Catra was furious, because she didn’t just leave the Horde, she left _her,_ and that meant she didn’t love her, didn’t it?

Adora’s world shifted, and she dedicated herself entirely to becoming the She-Ra that people desperately needed. So dedicated, and so consumed by it, that she didn’t notice herself being drawn to the honourable, caring, cooperative and hardworking Glimmer, until one day they were out beating back the advancing Horde and Glimmer just threw herself into the action without a second thought. In that split second between seeing Glimmer and drawing the sword of She-Ra, Adora’s mind suddenly hiccupped, and her first, resounding thought was _oh no_ as she realised, quiet suddenly, that she’d been falling in love this whole time, and this was what it felt like. It felt like Glimmer.

Glimmer was so frustrated at herself for having _these_ feelings for Adora. Because even though she was her best friend and she wouldn’t trade her for anything, she was a Horde soldier. She was raised in the Horde. Everything she knew, they had taught her, and Glimmer convinced herself that she couldn’t love someone like that. She hated the Horde. She _hated_ them. It was irrational, but she still believed she could not love Adora. She couldn’t love her. Except she did. She loved her.

It was Bow who realised their predicament first, and it was Bow who counselled Glimmer on her feelings for Adora. Bow who finally got her to see that the Horde had nothing to do with it. Because everything that Glimmer saw in Adora, everything she loved, all those things were what gave her the strength to reject the Horde, and to fight for the Rebellion. Those things were Adora.

And even as Glimmer knew it, deep down, it was hard to acknowledge when she still wore the Horde’s uniform. It was like she didn’t even want to let them go. Except Bow knew she did, because Adora knocked on his door one evening, and she asked if he had any spare shirts she could borrow. Of course, he jumped at the opportunity, and dragged her to the finest tailor in Bright Moon. She was uncomfortable and confused, having only ever worn a standard issue uniform, but he offered all the reassurance she needed, and the tailor got to work.

When Glimmer saw Adora, fresh faced and regal in her new threads and boots, her heart skipped a beat. The old uniform was nowhere in sight, and now she wore a pair of slick purple boots, white pants and a golden undershirt. Her jacket, crisp and magnificent, was a little longer than her old one, and had the sharp lines and purple hues that reminded Glimmer of her description of Light Hope. It was a whole new Adora, and she’d left the Horde behind, for good, it seemed.

Adora raised her hands to show it off, her goofy grin almost asking ‘So, do you like it?’ And she did. She loved it. She loved her.

Sweet Princesses, she was so in love with her.

But even then, there was uncertainty, because Adora was still figuring out how to be a person, and how to love her friends, and show them. How to care. It was Bow who taught her, in the end. Well, all of them, but Bow especially. It was in her, bursting to come out, she just had trouble understanding it. To do more, to love someone that much, the way she was falling in love with Glimmer, that was new and she didn’t really know what it meant. Because she wanted to love her, but what if she couldn’t? What if she was cracked in too many ways? What if Glimmer couldn’t love her back?

Such thoughts were plaguing her when Queen Angella found Adora sitting up, staring out at Etheria from beneath the Moonstone. At first, she thought to turn away and leave Adora to her musings, but it struck her suddenly that they have never spoken properly, and perhaps they should. She stepped up to her daughter’s best friend, and asked if she was interrupting, and Adora was up in a flash and bowing awkwardly and apologising for nothing. It took only a word from Angella and an invitation to sit again and Adora was silent beside her, watching the moonlights glow from above.

They spoke for a while on the happenings in Bright Moon, on the fight against the Horde, but in a breath the talk turned personal, and Adora found speaking with Angella wasn’t as daunting as one might think.

“To be in love is a precious thing. Do not waste it, Adora. Nurture it. Embrace it. Revel in it. It is rare and sometimes fleeting, but it is worth it.”

Adora wondered if she’d say the same if she knew Glimmer was the one of whom she spoke.

“Her favourite flower is the Gardenia.”

“I’m sorry?” Adora blinked, turning to the Queen, eyes wide.

“Glimmer,” Angella smiled softly. “Her favourite flower is the Gardenia. You’ll find a patch south of the Moonrise Gate.”

“How did you…?”

“I am her mother, Adora. And I am the Queen.”

Adora said nothing, just tried desperately to read the lines on the Queen’s face.

“Would you mind if…”

“It is not mine to mind,” Angella smiled again, standing in one swift motion and spreading her wings. “But I would be very happy for my daughter’s happiness.”

And with that she was gone, and Adora was alone again, with no more certainty than before.

But of course, it was Bow who enlisted Perfuma to arrange the perfect first date. Not that either of them knew about it. No, they were under the impression the Princess Alliance was having a night out together. Instead, they found themselves under a canopy of Gardenia’s and moonlight on an upper balcony of the palace. Just Glimmer and Adora and a table set for two.

 

Catra finds out from some stupid spy, an idiot who doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He couldn’t. Because how could Adora do that? With a Princess? Catra was right here, she was waiting, and Adora just…

When Scorpia finds her, she’s already shredded her sheets and trashed her room, destroying every last reminder of her. She’s sitting on the floor, curled into a ball, and she’s crying. She’s not angry anymore. She was so, so angry, but now she’s just sad. So completely, profoundly sad.

Scorpia scoops her up, because she really is a hugger, and she holds Catra for a long, long moment, until Catra lets her tears fall freely and chokes out the words she never told anyone. Not even Adora.

“I love her. I love her, and she doesn’t even care.”

A small voice by her ear murmurs in that soft, reassuring voice, “Yeah. I know what that’s like.”

It doesn’t click in her mind until three days later, when Scorpia is offering to go and destroy a rebellion outpost, and it’s clear she’s trying to cheer Catra up. Because while she was watching Adora, while she was waiting for her to drop the stupid charade and just come home, Catra hadn’t realised that Adora was already lost, and that _her_ home… was here, and it looked very different to the one Catra had pictured.

She’d pictured Adora by her side, on the right hand of Hordak, directing the invasion of the last stronghold of the Rebellion. She’d pictured shattered gemstones and fleeing princesses, and she’d pictured curling up at night with Adora, not at the foot of her bed, but beside her.

But she didn’t have that. She had Hordak’s ear, and she had legions to command, to be sure, and a black garnet to wield and a genius to build her weapons.

And she had Scorpia.

It still hurt, but it hurt less. Because Adora was gone. She was someone else’s. She was She-Ra.

But Scorpia? Scorpia was still here.

_Yeah, I know what that’s like._

She knew what that was like. She knew what it was... Oh… _Oh._

It takes her a long time to pluck up the courage, to be sure she hadn’t read the whole thing wrong, to be certain the soft sideways glances were more than just simple concern for a friend, and a longer time still to accept a simple hug again. 

She was Catra, Commander of the Legions of Hordak. She didn’t hug people. Except Scorpia. She hugged Scorpia.

It takes even longer to ask her out. But she does it. In the most horribly awkward, tensely uncertain and frankly embarrassing twenty seconds of her life, but she does it. And Scorpia, with a huge grin and a blush rising to her cheeks, says yes.

 

When the next Princess Ball comes around, Catra hardly expects Scorpia to get an invitation, especially after last time. But it arrives on time on a gilded scroll, and Scorpia asks gently if she wants to bother. And she does. It’s strategic, she insists. But that’s not entirely true.

Catra sees Adora across the room, surrounded by Princesses and Rebels and dressed in a fine gown of gold and red and purple. And she meets her gaze, and gives a soft nod. And across the room, with the Princess Glimmer on her arm, Adora gives a nod back.

She was her best friend. She was her first love. But things change. People change. Best friends change. It didn’t hurt anymore. It hadn’t in a long, long time.

Scorpia slips a small plate into her hand. “I got your favourite,” she grins, and Catra smirks.

“How’d you know?” she teases.

“Err, we’re married?” Scorpia blinks, her confusion evident.

Catra chuckles and takes her hand. “I know, my sweet.”

She leads her up toward the balcony, where it was quieter, and they can scout out structural weak points in the ballrooms ceiling.

 

“Do you think they’re up to something?” Glimmer asks, glaring up at Catra and Scorpia climbing the staircase.

“Without a doubt,” Adora nods, a smile pulling at her lips. They were good together, Catra and Scorpia. Sure, they were evil and needed to be stopped, but they were still good together.

A small, innocent part of Adora, the part that still wished Catra had come with her all those years ago, that part hoped that when Catra looked across the ballroom and saw Glimmer by her side, she thought the same.

 


End file.
